Rantopolis

This explains everything

Did I take a vacation last month?  I think I did, but that deep relaxed feeling I was able to conjure during my two weeks in Florida is a distant memory.

Not to mention that my fabulous suntan is flaking off like stage four dandruff.  Despite the fact that that I’m applying lotion every 7.5 seconds.

But I digress.  Let me discuss what I mean by “this explains everything.”

Last week was a short week when people were still segueing out of holiday mode.  This week?  This week is more like someone flung open all of the cages in the zoo and the animals are running loose terrorizing the city.

Every day this week has started before 7 a.m. with some European-related client drama.  It’s ended past 6 p.m. when I push away from the computer.  (Not really, because now I’m on the laptop and before 11 p.m. hits odds are pretty high that I’ll get some email that needs immediate attention.)

It’s Wednesday and I’m looking at the calendar in disbelief that it’s 11 more months until Christmas break.  Or seven months until my trip to Greece.  Or maybe two more months until I’m institutionalized.

Feeling absolutely exhausted with two more days left in the business week, I figure I should read a few more industry e-newletter emails before reaching for the remote control.

That’s when I saw it.   An article detailing the most stressful professions.

Public relations executive  #2.  The only profession more stressful than mine is commercial airline pilot.  (Okay, on some lists the military and the police bump me  slightly down the chain, but I’m always in the top 10.)

Hence the reference to “that explains everything.”

That means what I do for a living is more stressful than neurosurgeons and trial attorneys.  Those wimps didn’t even make the top ten.

Note all of the letters that have rubbed off of the keys. If that doesn't say stressful profession, I don't know what will.

If that wasn’t enough, while I was in the process of typing this, my local news reported that Chicago residents are subject to a higher than average stress level.

Great.  Both my profession and zip code are conspiring to give me a heart attack.  Or maybe a stroke.  Whichever can kill me faster.

The good news is Northwestern Hospital has WiFi available throughout the building.  Which, of course, means my profession will continue to stress me while I’m on life support.

Categories: Chicago style , Stress attack

2 comments

1 Babs { 01.11.12 at 8:55 pm }

Love this! I laughed out loud, while Googling whether stress is the demon behind my diverticulitis flare up…

2 Sophia { 01.11.12 at 9:07 pm }

Stress is the demon behind everything. I believe it is even responsible for milk spoiling in the refrigerator and most likely, global warming.